


Reginald

by marmolady



Series: Beyond Vaanu: Endless Ending [23]
Category: Endless Summer (Visual Novel)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29919042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmolady/pseuds/marmolady
Summary: Grace and Aleister’s baby boy celebrates his first birthday.
Relationships: Diego Soto/Varyyn (Endless Summer), Estela Montoya/Main Character (Endless Summer), Grace Hall/Aleister Rourke
Series: Beyond Vaanu: Endless Ending [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906357
Kudos: 2





	Reginald

**Author's Note:**

> I spent forever trying to wrap this thing up, but I didn't like anything I wrote, so decided 'screw it-- this'll do'. For now, at least. I may revisit later.

“Dada!”

Reggie, sitting up in his cot, waved his arms over his head. His cherubic face was full of delight from the moment his father opened the door. “Dada, up!”

“Time to get up? Yes, I think it might be.”

Aleister scooped his infant son into his arms. The way Reggie held onto him with his small hand, finding comfort in his simple _being there_ , was still a heart-rending thrill.

“It’s a very special day today, my darling boy; do you know what it is?”

“Da!” came the happy squeak of reply. Reggie kicked his legs around happily; there was something that had gotten his father excited, and that good feeling was catching.

“Your very first birthday,” Grace cooed. “One whole year Reggie has been with us! Aren’t we lucky?” She reached and took a tiny waving hand and kissed it. Her eyes were heavy with rings; it had been so late that she’d waited up, hoping for a last-minute reply of some kind-- _anything_ \-- from her mother. Still, there was today… but Grace was left feeling, as she so often had, that hell would freeze over before Blaire acknowledged her grandson. There was a unique kind of tiredness that came with a long cry, and Grace was feeling it all over. But this was Reggie’s day; a celebration of the little boy who had quickly become the light of her life-- and Aleister’s. Today was for love and laughter.

The morning routine was as usual; Reggie was changed, then had a feed and cuddle, then the family sat down together for breakfast around the wooden table on their front porch. Iris, of course, was present for the meal, even though she couldn’t physically partake. So much of her own son’s life she’d missed out on, and she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to be right there cheering on her little grandson as he bravely tried new foods. The hole her untimely death had left in Aleister’s life couldn’t be healed; his childhood had been what it had been, and it gave what they had now, as a loving family, a certain poignancy.

Already, the sun was shining, and the sea sparkling. From their home in the Catalyst village just outside Elyys’tel-- now quiet and usually near-empty-- the family of four could look over the stretch of beach that would take them to a far smaller reincarnation of The Celestial, and hear the distant sounds of Vaanti life going on within the majestic tree just north of them. It was utterly peaceful. On his mother’s knee, Reggie contentedly gummed on a piece of toast, while turning his head to the sights and sounds of La Huerta, all around him. Today, his attention had been caught by a butterfly the size of a tea plate, as it landed on a nearby tree.

“Can you see it, Reggie?” Grace encouraged, pointing her finger. “Big, big butterfly.”

“Fuuh.” Reggie watched, entranced, as the butterfly flew away. “Buh-buh!”

Aleister beamed. It seemed that every day, his young son brought something new. There was so much that Reggie was learning-- soaking in the world around him like a sponge. Aleister couldn’t imagine he’d ever tire of trying to understand the world through Reggie’s eyes; the small things that caught his interest, the actions that made him smile.

“Bye-bye, butterfly!”

“Buh-buh, fuuh!” Reggie cried, his face lighting up as he realised his father understood what he was saying.

Grace kissed his soft, curly hair. “You are _such_ a clever boy…”. Never; not ever, would she ever let it be that her little Reginald didn’t know how proud she was of him… how his every achievement-- however small a thing it was that brought him pride-- would be her happiness to share. He would know he was enough. Always. The thought brought with it another wave of tiredness, of longing for the approval she could tell herself she didn’t need, but still craved nonetheless. But, she told herself, as she had done again and again; Reggie was not missing out by his maternal grandmother being absent. It was better that Blaire Hall stay away than make contact only to cause harm. That kind of toxicity was not what Reggie deserved… and, Grace had to remind herself, it was far less than what she herself deserved too. As Reggie turned around to offer in return a much more slobbery kiss than the one he’d received, Grace couldn’t help but laugh her woes away for the time being. Reggie had that kind of magic effect about him.

* * *

_July 2022_

Grace gritted her teeth, and braced herself, curling her small frame inward.

 _“...you’ll at least_ consider _having a termination, surely?…”_

She panted, and her pants became painful groans as her body seemed intent on tearing itself apart. She could do this… she _had_ to do this. Small pants, small pushes, the midwife had said. It was hard, everything in her body screamed to give more.

_“...I didn’t pour a small fortune into your education for you to waste the best years of your life chained down with a baby…”_

The midwife spoke, her voice coming to Grace as if through a fog, barely cutting through the pain that was now all-encompassing… and the gripping fear of failure, of falling short as she always, always seemed to.

“The head is delivered; now I need you to push really hard. Your baby is almost here.”

Aleister’s voice followed after… warm, and remarkably close to calm, though the way his hands trembled as he stroked Grace’s back gave away his nervous trepidation.

“Darling, you’ve been so strong… _heroic_. More than I’ve ever believed in anything… I believe in you now. And I’m here, Grace….”

A whimper escaped Grace’s lips. A split-second doubt in herself that flared up, borne of a habit of a lifetime. Panic that faith in her was being woefully misplaced….

 _“...I’ve become used to you disappointing me, Grace, but_ this… _you’re not the daughter I thought I’d raised…”_

With a guttural roar that made Aleister jump in surprise, Grace heaved, pushing down into her body with all her might. _This_ , she was doing for herself. And she was going to kick labour in its ass while she was at it.

“Hold my hand!” she demanded, and Aleister did.

“Grace… you can do this, love.”

Her breath shuddered with the strain of labour, but then Grace’s jaw set with determination. “I know I can do this.”

A tiny, squalling bundle of baby emerged into the world, quickly gathered up by the midwife and placed on Grace’s chest.

“Congratulations! You have a healthy son!”

Aleister’s legs gave way, and it as only with the midwife’s timely assistance that he didn’t collapse straight to the floor.

“We… we have a _son…,”_ he stuttered.

Dazed, Grace gently stroked the infant, their little boy. She’d done it. All those years she’d believed she wasn’t enough… and now there in her arms was indisputable proof that she’d been been sold a terrible falsehood.

“Our little baby…,” she murmured. “ _Hello_ , little one. We’ve been so looking forward to meeting you…”.

Any doubts in herself, in the future she’d have with her beautiful family, had washed away, expelled through the screams of a mother bringing forth a new life. As Grace’s senses returned to her, she breathed in her baby’s scent, marveled his perfect, bewildered face, and felt his heartbeat against her own… and she wept.

Aleister tenderly put his arms around her and kissed her damp forehead again and again as she laughed and cried, delirious.

 _“_ He’s _amazing…,_ ” Grace gushed through her tears. This moment… she had to hold onto it forever; let it be her strength.

No cruel words could reach her now.

* * *

One-year-old children, Aleister had established, had refreshingly simple needs when it came to parties. Though there was a part of him that had been saddened that it wasn’t possible for the extended Catalyst family to be around for baby Reggie’s first birthday, that fact had meant that the occasion could be enjoyed without an excessive hullabaloo. One only had to utter the ‘p’ word around the likes of Raj and a feast would materialise… along with noise, and booze, and more than likely, a cupcake tower. The cupcake tower they’d deigned to keep, but the rest Aleister was quite happy to do without. What mattered was what would make little Reggie happy… even if that meant putting on the most undignified high-pitched sing-song voice he could muster. Again, thank _god_ this thing was being kept small.

Diligently, he put out the necessary play-mats, picnic blankets, chairs, tables, and-- of course-- toys, for the small and simple first birthday celebration in the grass out front of the Rourke-Hall family home.

“What do we think, Reggie?” he asked, taking the time, as he always did, to engage his young son in whatever he was doing. “Not half bad, I’d say. A bit of shade… and perhaps we should bring out the bassinet for Liv, and I believe we’ll have a venue fit for a very special birthday boy.”

“Da!” Reggie cried from his bouncer, strategically placed so he could watch all the goings-on, and his father could in turn watch him.

“Thank you, I thought so. We may not have all the bells and whistles, but a little birdie told me there _might_ just be some wrapping paper on the way… that _is_ your favourite part of any gift, I know.”

Parenting had not been as hard a slog as Aleister had anticipated. Certainly, the broken nights’ sleep had been… less than pleasant, and the tinkling sounds of Reggie’s favourite musical toy were seared into Aleister’s mind, surely to torment him until his dying day; but throughout it all, he knew a most complete happiness, and somehow, he seemed to make his small son happy as well.

Reggie was an easy-going baby. For all that they had felt like torture, those nights of interrupted sleep were short-lived; Reggie settled into the routine with limited fussing. As the months went on, he spent far more time smiling than he did crying; in fact, once he’d started to become more mobile, he barely seemed to cry at all. A little shy with new people-- and overwhelmed by the sheer energy of the Catalysts all gathering together-- Reggie approached the world and people in it with wide-eyed curiosity, and one hand hanging on tight to one of his ‘safe’ people. Aleister was certain his son had inherited that amiable nature from Grace-- the alternative seemed… unlikely. Reggie’s _joie de vivre_ was infectious; seeing that easy contentment, Aleister had to believe that he and Grace must have been doing something right.

* * *

_July 2022_

Aleister looked down at the tiny bundle in his arms, and a lump rose in his throat.

“I wonder if he’ll look at all like me,” he pondered out loud. “I think we’ve established that my father’s genes aren’t the strongest; Estela is the image of her mother and I… well, the cloning process must have been a long way south of perfect. I have his build but, to be honest, it ends there.”

Iris smiled. “I don’t doubt he will.” Her eyes sparkled cheekily. “I could go so far as to scan your resemblance, but I feel a mother’s word holds more value. I’d recognise that face anywhere. Baby Reginald Aleister is taking after his daddy.”

The baby grumbled, and a quick check determined that a diaper change was in order.

_And so it begins._

Setting down a changing mat on the floor, Aleister’s hands trembled. Who was he kidding to think he was cut out for this? His experiences on the _receiving_ end of parenting had only instructed him in what not to do, and he remained convinced, though Grace demanded otherwise, that he had all the warmth of a polar bear with hypothermia… eating an ice cream.

Noticing her son’s clear apprehension, Iris hovered closer. “It’s truly daunting to bring a child into the world. A whole little life… dependant on you.” She knew the regret would come through in her voice, but she’d always give Aleister honesty. He’d had precious little of that from the man he’d called ‘father’. “The only advice I can give is to break it down. Eighteen years of raising him doesn’t happen all at once… it’s small steps. Changing one nappy at a time.”

Aleister slowly went through the process, one that sounded so simple, but with the significance he placed upon it, it might as well be scaling Atropo.

“Would you believe I do actually know how to put a fresh nappy on a baby?” he said as he powdered Reggie’s bottom. “But I get down here and try to put it into practice-- the _simplest_ of tasks-- and I’m completely hobbled by my own certainty that I’m bound to get it wrong. I don’t know if I’ll break this down small enough that I won’t be daunted. He’s… too important.”

“You mustn’t underestimate how powerful your own intent is. I know without a shadow of a doubt that you will always mind your son… you’ll never let his needs be lost. You love him, and if that’s guiding your path with him, I don’t believe you’ll go far wrong.”

Painstakingly, Aleister fitted a new diaper, adjusting and readjusting when he did it up too tight, and then not tight enough. With the adhesive worn out, he had to move on to a second. Finally, though, baby Reggie was changed, and one significant small step had been taken. With a sigh of release, Aleister got back to his feet, and with utmost care, picked up his son, whose eyelids were now heavy.

“I do appreciate your faith in me, Mother,” he said. “Truly, I do. But I cannot fool myself into believing that my best intentions will prevent me from inflicting harm on my son. We have all seen first-hand just what my best intentions can do.” When he looked up, Aleister saw such sorrow in Iris’ face; in her eyes was an aching desire to hold him-- something that could never be. He reached out his free hand, letting his fingers brush through the projection of hers. “The most terrible, most idiotic thing I’ve ever done was a decision made out of love. Arrogance as well-- I’ll never deny that. But all I wanted was to protect the woman I loved from something too horrifying to even comprehend.”

“My darling,” Iris whispered, “the fact that you care so much makes all the difference in the world. The people you love believe in you; all that’s left is for you to learn to trust yourself.”

Aleister sniffed. “Is that all? Just a bit of crippling self-doubt to conquer? I’ll have that polished off before lunch.” He smiled sadly. When he truly thought about it, he knew that he’d learned from his own mistakes-- the foolish certainty in his own being right, even in the face of those he trusted telling him otherwise. He’d taken their lives in his hands, well-intentioned or not, and they’d suffered for it. If they could all endure that stupidity and everything that came of it… and still manage to regain some belief in him, it seemed the lesson he needed to hear was to place his belief in them right back. “Well,” he said, “I certainly owe it to a lot of people, myself included, not to shy from that challenge.”

Iris’ eyes shone with pride and tenderness. “Reggie is going to have a wonderful father in you.”

And Aleister dared himself to believe it.

* * *

“ _Reginaaaald!”_

At the sound of the cry, Reggie pulled himself up onto his feet, holding onto his mother’s leg while he peered out to the direction of his aunties’ house down the way.

“Oh. Here come the rabble,” Aleister said, bracing himself. _Farewell, peace and quiet. It was nice knowing you._

Grace giggled and took her son’s tiny hands. “Who’s that, Reggie? Is that Auntie Taylor?”

“Ah-tah!” Reggie proudly confirmed. “Yah-steh!”

“That’s right, Auntie Taylor and Tia Estela. Do you want to walk to see them?”

Reggie lurched forward, balancing against Grace’s hands as they guided him.

At seeing her nephew’s awkward goose-step in her direction, Estela paused her approach and hunkered down with her arms opened wide. “Look at you go!”

Coming up behind with tiny baby Liv strapped to her chest, Taylor enthusiastically cheered Reggie on.

The toddling infant shrieked with mirth, and his little legs worked all the harder, until Grace let him go, and he collapsed into his aunt’s waiting arms.

“Yah-steh!”

“Happy birthday, _mijo!_ ” Estela cried, lifting Reggie in the air and planting a kiss on his face while he giggled. “You are getting to be such a big boy!”

Taylor brought over the much-smaller Liv, who greeted her cousin with wide eyes. Six-weeks-old, she was beginning to take an interest in the people and goings on around her, and Reggie was about the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen.

“ _Happy birthday, Reggie!”_ Taylor said in a sing-song voice, gently waving Liv’s hand. The little boy squealed happily as he waved back, and his aunt grinned from ear to ear.

Estela angled Reggie closer so Taylor could properly greet him with a kiss and a tickle.

“I love you _so_ much, sweetheart. Best. Nephew. Ever!”

“ _Ba-bee_!”

“That’s right, Reggie… _baaaay-by,”_ Taylor said, and she bounced Liv a little closer to her curious cousin. “Baby Liv has come to see you!”

Reggie gently bonked the smaller child on the shoulder, and she blinked at him in fascination.

“Ba-bee, ba.”

In no time at all, a picnic was laid out, and Reggie was merrily tucking into some soft pieces of fruit, and offering up portions to the members of the loving family who had gathered around him. He gave a jolly chortle as Aleister made a big show over just how delicious dragon-fruit was. To his right, his baby cousin was being fed, something that always piqued his curiosity. Liv was something he was still getting his head around. He’d seen other babies in Elyys’tel on occasion, but the fact that this particular baby seemed to be attached to his aunties, made her _very_ interesting. Pouting slightly, he gazed up into his Auntie Taylor’s face as she fed a grumbly rumbly Liv. It didn’t look like he’d have any luck muscling in there… and he already knew that he did _not_ want to make that baby thing start crying. Liv was far too loud for his liking.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Taylor cooed gently, reaching out her free hand to stroke Reggie’s cheek.

That small acknowledgement was all that was needed. Reggie hadn’t been forgotten, and he could get back to cheerily playing with the last scraps of his birthday lunch.

With lunch polished off, it was time for presents. The sight of the bright, colourful packages that Taylor pulled out from her bag made his eyes go wide. More big, crinkly paper? For him?

“This is from us… and _this one_ is from Livi.”

Grace laughed and leaned over to give a fed and contented Liv a kiss on the head. “My word, you are a generous little lady! Thank you both-- so much. I can’t say what it means to us… for our special little boy to be shown so much love.”

By now, Reggie had some understanding of the way this ‘presents’ thing worked. A smiling grown-up would hand him a thing made of colourful paper, and his job was to rip it until something inside fell out. Then, the grown-ups would clap and cheer, and the paper would be free to be further ripped and crinkled and played with. It was a fun game.

Burbling happily to himself, Reggie tugged at the paper until he’d extricated the pesky thing inside, something soft and floppy.

“Oh, look, Reggie!” Grace exclaimed. “It’s Furball! Auntie Taylor must have been very busy sewing for you.”

“Thank heavens it isn’t a spear…,” Aleister muttered.

Estela smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Yeah, I lost rock-paper-scissors. Reggie will get his spear next year. He’ll have stopped putting everything in his mouth by then, right?”

 _Lord, give me strength. This,_ Aleister now knew, was the price of family. But it was better, _infinitely_ better, than being without.

* * *

_July 2022_

Taylor was a bundle of nerves, and if the uncharacteristic twitchiness was anything to go by, Estela was too. As if to reassure, but taking just as much comfort in return, Taylor grasped her wife’s hand.

“It’s okay, Taylor,” said Estela, softly. “I’m scared too.” She was scared of herself, how she’d feel when she walked in that room and saw Grace and Aleister with their perfect new baby boy. They didn’t deserve the most joyous day of their lives to be clouded by someone else’s envy and longing. Somehow, she and Taylor would have to forget just how much they’d been hoping for that magical day for themselves. Gently, she kissed Taylor’s brow. “Are you ready?”

With a deep breath, Taylor nodded. A piece of the family she’d dreamed of lay just ahead… she was someone’s aunt now, a fact almost incomprehensible when she looked back at what she came from. There was no way in _hell_ she was going to let her own heartache take the shine off this day. “Yeah, I am. Let’s meet that little nephew of ours.”

Aleister opened the door, to find himself pulled straight into one of Taylor’s world-famous hugs. “I really should have braced myself for that, shouldn’t I?”

Estela laughed. The only other time she’d seen her brother so completely helpless in the face of a smile that just wouldn’t leave him was the day of _Niala’rei_ when he’d been wed to Grace. That kind of happiness was impossible not to catch. “Don’t worry; you’ll soon be able to deflect her onto your son.” _Oh, what the hell?_ She joined in the hug, putting both arms around her brother. “Congratulations, _hermano!_ ”

“Yes, yes, isn’t it wonderful, _et cetera, et cetera_ …,” Aleister said as he found his way out of the three-way embrace. “If you’ll follow me, Grace and I have someone we’d like to introduce you to.”

 _Oh my god,_ Taylor thought to herself, as she trailed after her friend, _he is practically skipping!_

They came into the neat and tidy lounge room to find Grace gently rocking in the hand-carved nursing chair that had been a gift from Varyyn and Diego. In her arms… a small bundle, wrapped in a soft powder pink blanket.

Grace beamed as Taylor rushed forward, and had to hold back a laugh as her sister-in-law’s mouth fell open. “This is Reginald. Reginald Aleister Hall… but I have a feeling he’s going to go by ‘Reggie’ more often than not.”

“ _Grace!”_ Taylor gasped. “He is absolutely gorgeous… oh my god….”

“Isn’t he just? He wasn’t too sure about coming out, but I’m _so_ glad he eventually decided to bless us with his presence. Isn’t that right, little man?” With a great deal of effort, Grace looked up from her newborn son, and noticed a wide-eyed Estela hanging back. “It’s all right; you can come closer.”

Estela swallowed hard. With the relationship she had with her uncle as close as it was, the thought of being someone’s aunt was… overwhelming. And she knew from that first look that she’d willingly move mountains for this kid.

“Hey,” Grace said warmly, “would you like a cuddle?”

Her heart in her throat, Estela allowed Grace to place the baby into her waiting arms. Reggie made a little squeak as he settled into the new embrace, then his body relaxed, safe and secure as his aunt held him. _Holy shit._ “I… can’t believe I’m his _tia._ I am so happy to meet you, _mijo._ You are gonna be so loved. _”_

Taylor brushed away a tear from her eye. “I think he already is! Oh god, the waterworks just aren’t stopping….”

Grace chuckled, totally content, and smiled as she watched Taylor gently kiss baby Reggie’s soft forehead. “It’s amazing. This kind of love… it’s just taken over my whole body. I can’t imagine feeling happier than this.”

Soft as a murmur, Estela hummed a gentle tune to the baby as she rocked him, and the smile on her face just grew broader and broader. It had cut her to her core to discover that she’d been fathered by the murdering bastard Rourke… and now that connection had given her the chance to be this little one’s aunt, to pay forward the loving care her uncle had lavished on her. There was not a shadow of a doubt in her mind; young Reggie would have his Tia Estela in his corner, ready to hold his hand through whatever life saw to throw at him. She sighed happily. “How about you meet your Auntie Taylor? If she gets any more excited she might just explode. We don’t want that, do we, _chiquito_?”

“Haha, very funny,” Taylor said, rolling her eyes. “But, yeah, I would _love_ a cuddle.” She inhaled sharply as Estela eased Reggie into her arms. “Oh, little man! You are one handsome little tyke….”

Aleister watched proudly-- and catching himself from hovering _too_ protectively. The way Reggie’s aunts looked at him… it was a look of adoring family. _Love_ was something that little fellow would surely never need yearn for. “Yes,” he said, quietly, “he’s rather perfect.”

* * *

With full bellies all round, the birthday party had gone on pause for a couple of hours, allowing for desperately-needed naps to be taken. Reggie woke from his afternoon snooze to his home filled with lights and streamers, and even _more_ friendly faces seemingly intent on showering him with affection. He wasn’t completely sure what to make of it all, but it sure was fun.

Birthday cake took the form of cupcakes, of course.

“Quinn Skyped us through the whole thing,” Diego explained. “Obviously, she really wanted to make something for Reggie herself, so we basically ended up being her cupcake-baking puppets.”

“Cupcake-baking, and frosting-licking,” Varyyn corrected. “Quinn was very right when she said that is the best bit.”

Grace smiled from ear to ear. “That was so kind-- of all of you!”

It had been a significant wrench for both herself and Aleister to see their friends return to the States after the reunion a month prior. Life didn’t stop; it couldn’t-- so much had already been upended, and the world outside La Huerta would keep turning, waiting for no one. Grace suspected her longing for her friends’ closeness was tied to the stirring of the wounds she carried over her relationship with her mother. Or… her lack of one. Time had done wonders in healing, but these moments she spent with her precious son had their way of making it so starkly obvious just what was missing. It couldn’t be changed, and she’d woken up that morning with the resolve to stop wasting her energy on wanting that change. Quietly, she re-directed her mind whenever it wandered into destructive territory.

_The people who matter won’t let distance keep them from showing their care._

Aleister sunk into the couch and put an arm around his wife.

“That little fellow is going to be out like a night, come bedtime,” he said warmly, looking over Reggie as he toddled between friends with Diego holding his hands. “His legs have barely stopped moving since nap-time.”

Grace sighed happily and cuddled close. “He’d better be able to keep his eyes open long enough for the bedtime group call. Craig will be gutted if he doesn’t get to sing ‘Happy Birthday’.”

“I’m sure Craig would survive, but I have a feeling the sugar from those blasted cakes will see Reggie through just long enough.”

Reggie, indeed riding a slight sugar-high, was showing no signs of slowing down anytime soon. _Everyone_ wanted his attention, and he was loving it. Varyyn, who was gently bouncing baby Liv in his arms, had made a point of wearing his crown; experience had taught him that the infants were mesmerised by the way the scarlet feathers danced on his head. Between staring up at the _elyyshar_ with wonder, chasing around the colourful holographic projections Iris bounced around the floor, and cheekily prodding Estela into tickling him, Reggie had no shortage of entertainment in the form of his guests, but something from behind Taylor’s chair _did_ catch his eye.

“So,” Taylor said as she pulled out a bulging sack of gifts, “we got left all this to surprise you with. I think everyone just went crazy with gifts; Reggie’s got a lot of love from all his aunts and uncles.”

In no time, Reggie was laughing fit to burst as he crawled through a sea of coloured paper; it was like some kind of wonderland… but emerged from it to see that, for some reason, his mother was… weepy. Concerned, Reggie awkwardly dragged the largest piece of paper he could find, then offered it to Grace as he hoisted himself upright using her leg.

“Mama?” It _looked_ like she was… happy? Really, grown-ups were the strangest things….

Grace chuckled warmly and scooped up her boy. “ _You,_ young man, are such a lucky little guy.” She kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him again, until he was once again giggling. Reggie, she knew, was not missing out on anything at all. Her worst fears would come to nothing; her son would forever be loved without conditions… and his mummy and daddy would just have to get used to the fact that they were too.


End file.
